


Until the End of Everything

by quantumofsolace



Series: Until the End of Everything [1]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumofsolace/pseuds/quantumofsolace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles Xavier has his hands full with a mansion that's falling apart, mutant teenagers to raise, taxes to pay and he's barely able to make ends meet.   Erik Lensherr is a starving artist with a mission to make Shaw pay for past mistakes.  Both men are willing to bend the rules to make ends meet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I'm Trying"

The stack of papers on his desk seemed to waver precariously as the breeze drifted through the open window. He could hear the sounds of the children playing a game of football in the back yard. Hank’s protests were drowned out by Alex’s crow of triumph. He would eventually have to sternly tell the younger boys to come inside for dinner and homework, but it was pleasant to hear their banter drifting up towards them along with their scattered thoughts. He thoughtfully scanned a student’s essay...ignoring the awful grammatical errors in hopes of finding some enlightening insights. The paper had more red than black five minutes later as he pointed out obvious flaws in their argument. His freshmen class was full of energy and hope, but lacking in skill. He had to finish grading the class set of papers before starting dinner. The rest of the stack would have to wait until everyone had gone to bed.

Nearly half an hour later, Charles closed his window and pulled on a well-worn gray cardigan to warm him against the chill of the autumn evening. He wandered down the creaking stairs of the Xaiver mansion as he mentally reached out to the children at home. Time to come in for homework and chores. Dinner will be in about an hour. Hank, Alex, Sean, Armando and Logan all protested in a cacophony of thoughts and voices, but he could hear their laughter as they headed towards the house. Raven and Angel were still in the city--Raven working part-time in the local art gallery Moira MacTaggert managed while Angel was at her dance class.  


“What’s for dinner, Chuck?” Logan stalked into the large kitchen with his favorite plaid shirt slung over one shoulder. His form fitting white t-shirt was stained with grass and dirt, a few leaves clinging to his unkempt dark hair. He grinned at Charles as he leaned against the counter. “You look like you’ve had a rough day of it? Do you want some help with dinner? I can tinker with the car later tonight.”  


“You’re not exhausted from working and corralling the boys?” Charles was already busy peeling potatoes. A couple of store-bought frozen meatloaves were waiting to be set in the preheated oven.  


“They can’t keep up with me.” Logan leaned over Charles’ shoulder, his hand at the small of his back. The familiar gesture brought a flush of pleasure to Charles’ cheeks. Logan tended to be very tactile and affectionate once he decided he trusted someone completely. Logan’s shocking transformation from brooding ,scowling loner to teasing,over protective co-guardian was rather spectacular. Charles wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, but he was grateful for the extra help Logan--and Armando to a smaller degree--provided. Alex and Sean were still in high school. Hank was working on his first year of residency at a local hospital while Armando continued to search for a major.  


“How was your day?” Charles continued to peel potatoes.  


“The building skeleton is finished..we’re on schedule. The crew chief is an ass. I may kill him before this all through...but we need the cash.”  


“Our investments are growing slowly but nicely...we’re making ends meet.”  


“Barely.” Logan took a beer from the refrigerator and perched on a stool. “According to the accounts, the taxes on this place are going to eat up most of what we’ve invested. We still need to make repairs so that we don’t freeze this winter. I’m not cuddling with Summers and Cassidy. We can move everyone into one wing to conserve heat, but that still will require getting someone our here to look at the furnace.”  


“I’ve already started looking at banks.” Charles regarded Logan for a moment. A flush spread across his cheeks when Logan returned his gaze in earnest. Charles continued to peel potatoes. “There are a few promising ones. We should take a weekend trip to check out. I think Armando and Hank can watch over the boys.”  


“We can take the bike.” Logan grinned. “You’ll love the feel of the wind in your hair.”  


Charles could imagine riding with Logan, his arms wrapped around the bulk of his waist. Logan’s back was a solid mass of muscle over steel. His job at the construction site kept him in shape, more so than Charles could say for his own occasional runs around the property. He must have stared off into space for a moment too long because when he focused on Logan again, his face was only inches away.  


“Chuck.”  


“Yes?” Charles licked his lips, trying to buy time.  


“For a telepath, you have a terrible poker face. “ Logan grinned, his laugh a short bark. He backed away. “What would you have done, if I hadn’t followed you out of the bar that day?”  


“Well...I was a little disconcerted after you said ‘Go fuck yourself,’ but I knew you thought I was handsome. The forceful thought I got was more along the lines of ‘Or I could help you out with that.’” Charles watched Logan’s eyes widen in surprise.  


“Professor!”  


Logan returned to his former spot as Sean dashed into the kitchen with a load of books in his arms. Sean stopped short of the kitchen island with a breathless grin. “Hey, um...Professor. What do you know about Native American literature?”  


“It depends on the tribe that you’re studying, Sean.”  


“Well, I have these questions to answer for my English class...”  


“And you don’t understand something?”  


“Well...I didn’t pay much attention in class...”  


“In that case, I would strongly suggest you sit there and read before answering the questions. and then you should get started on your science project. No one is interested in spending the night helping you glue a model together.”  


Sean’s shoulders slumped, but he sat at the kitchen table. He started flipping through his textbooks and mumbling under his breath. He managed a quick grin for Alex when he joined him at the table with a similar pile of textbooks and papers. They had overcome their differences in the past few months and their burgeoning friendship had the potential to be much more...if Sean’s flushes and Alex’s rather fond looks were any indication. Charles ignored the longing thoughts that seemed to leak from both boys as he continued to work. He couldn't help but be aware of Logan scrutiny. He didn’t try to pick up any surface thoughts. He was not sure he wanted to know the depth of Logan’s interest. Not yet.  


“I should get to work myself.” Logan clapped Charles on the shoulder as he set his beer bottle in the sink.

“See you for dinner, Chuck.”  


“You know, Logan...I prefer to be called Charles.”  


“Maybe if you ask me nicely enough...one day I will call you that...Chuck.” Logan flashed a grin before sauntering away.

xxXxx

He had graded almost an entire stack of papers when the door to the library opened and his sister slipped inside. Her bright red hair was a vivid contrast to the blue of her natural skin. She shivered beneath her jade green silk kimono-like robe and padded across the floor to the couch. “It’s chilly in here...why don’t you have a fire?”  


“I hadn’t really noticed. I was too busy staining these papers.” He leaned forward to set the papers on the coffee table, stretching and yawning. “How was your day, love? Did you get dinner?”  


“It was a long day at the gallery. We’ve got an exhibit from the university coming and those grad students are so picky! I understand the need to have your art displayed correctly, but they don’t have to be so bitchy about it.” She folded herself under his arm and cuddled close, her cheek resting over his heart. “Dinner was good...you’re getting better.”  


Charles laughed softly and leaned his head against hers. “Thanks, Raven. I’ve been trying. I know we can’t exist on microwave dinners and frozen pizzas. “  


She giggled reached for his hand, threading their fingers together. “Ugh. I’d much rather work with the artists at the Collective. They’re so into what they do...it’s amazing...”  


“Is there any artist in particular that has impressed you so much?”  


“No...but you should come to the show next weekend. If you get there early, you can look at everything with out the crowd. I can introduce you to some of the artists. Perhaps you’ll meet someone nice to try your horrible pick up lines on.”  


“My pickup lines are groovy.” Charles yelped as she pinched a particularly sensitive spot. “Raven!”  


“It may be why you haven’t had a date since you became a professor...although I’ve heard on many occasion there are dozens of girls on the waiting list for your entry level courses.”  


He sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “How is Moira? She hasn’t been to visit in weeks.”  


“You might want to ask Logan about that...”  


“Why?”  


“He made one of his more blatant comments about her and Armando. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone blush so much...and I thought Armando was going to adapt into a turtle.” Raven sat up. “They needed a gentle push...not a shove.”  


“I see...”  


“Do you?”  


He smiled as she turned to face him. “You know if the artists could see your true form they would worship you, I believe.”  


“Blue girl?”  


“Blue goddess.”  


“They could paint me without clothes...”  


“I’m still a little uncomfortable seeing you...well...naked. You are my sister.” Charles flushed slightly, but his smile didn’t falter. “But blue is beautiful.”  


“I wish Hank shared your sentiment...he finds this fascinating, but he prefers me to be a blond.”  


“Do you like him enough to give him the chance to change?”  


“I keep hoping.” Her lashes dipped to hide the hurt in her eyes, but his hand under her chin tilted her face up. Charles exhaled. “I wish you could be yourself every where.”  
“Me, too.” She leaned forward to press a kiss just at the corner of his mouth before cuddling back against his side.  


Brother and sister remained together in silence, hoping.

xxXxx  


Erik leaned against the stainless steel counter top and cupped his hand around the coffee mug, staring down into it’s inky depths and watching the steam curl up and drift into the morning air. The coffee pot was on a time, Shaw would expect a cup to be waiting for him when he came out of the shower, but Erik wasn’t an obedient minion. He took the money that Shaw offered; he slept in his bed when necessary, and he presented himself at the events Shaw demanded. He hated the necessity of Shaw as a patron, but circumstances beyond his control brought him to this place. But he had plans...and Shaw was running out of time.  


“Erik?” Shaw was wearing a terry cloth robe, his hair slicked back from his shower. He lifted a brow. “You didn’t bring my coffee.”  
Erik shrugged and rubbed his stomach beneath his threadbare white v-neck. He let his hands spread across the counter. The contact was soothing and it eased his anger. “I have to go...I need to work. I won’t be available for a few days.”  


“That’s fine. Emma will be back this afternoon.” Shaw placed a hand at Erik’s back, his teeth closing around the skin at his throat. He nipped him slightly over a mark from the night before. “I’ll stop by to check on you tomorrow around noon.”  


Erik winced, but didn’t move. He waited until Shaw stepped back before he picked up his battered leather jacket and keys. “I won’t be around tomorrow.”  


“Why not?”  


“I have plans.”  


“Change them.”  


“No.”  


Shaw raised his hand to slap him, but Erik caught his wrist. He lowered Shaw’s arm and walked away.  


xxXxx


	2. "We're Going Through the Motions"

The blond young woman who monitored the desk at the gallery looked rather annoyed by the person she was chatting with on the phone. Her eyes narrowed behind the frames of a pair of posh black glasses and she frowned prettily. Erik leaned against the corner of the reception area, watching her with interest. She flushed slightly when she finally noticed him, but continued to listen and nod. “Okay, Charles. I promise not to let the kids tear everything to pieces. I think I can manage to keep them from killing each other for one night. You and Logan need to do this.”

Erik watched the tension ease from her face as she giggled, listening with more interest. “I promise to be good and virtuous, dear brother. Just be sure to take enough photos that I will be able to tell exactly how tall these people are...it was so embarrassing the last time...okay...I love you, too. Bye.”

She hung up the phone. “I’m sorry. My brother...a bit over protective. He’s going out of town for the weekend.”

“And you’re babysitting his kids?”  
“Huh? Oh, no. Teenagers...you could say our house is like a collective of various people who need a home. We’re a rather eclectic bunch.” She leaned forward. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Erik Lensherr...I spoke with Moira about setting up my exhibit tomorrow, but I wanted to look at the space today before I selected the pieces.” He smiled slightly and watched pink stain her cheeks.

“Raven Darkholme-Xavier. I remember. She mentioned that you would be stopping in...I didn’t expect you to be quite so...interesting.” Her smile widened to match his as she rose and tossed her hair back over one shoulder. “Follow me. I’ll show you were Moira though your space should be. I think you’ll like it.”

She was flirty, but professional. Raven obviously knew what she was doing. She pointed out everything he would want to know about the space where he would be showing his art. She didn’t try to suggest anything about where he should place anything. She left him to explore the space on his own. Her polite claim that she should be back her desk was a useful excuse for an exit. He promised to stop back by her desk before leaving to confirm delivery, but stayed to enjoy the silence and peace of the place where he would allow the world to see his art. Even Shaw’s gross ability to defile everything Erik held sacred did not shatter the joy he found in shaping metal.

He leaned against the far wall and slide one hand in his pocket to extract a coin that he had carried for far too many years of his life. His thumb caressed the edge,back and forth around the curve...rhythmically. The habit focused his mind.

When he finally made his way to the lobby, Raven was chatting with a young woman covered in body paint and swathed in multiple layers white organza over a leotard. The young woman was gesturing so excitedly as she perched on the edge of the desk that they didn’t notice him for several minutes.

“Mr. Lensherr!” Raven exclaimed. “What do you think? Did you like the space?”

“It’s perfect.” Erik managed to avoid getting a mouthful of silk as the other girl hopped off the desk. “I just wanted to thank you for your assistance.”

“You’re welcome.” Raven blushed again before extending a card. “I’ll be here when your pieces arrive. What ever I can do to help...”

“I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“You’re quite fit.” The other girl gave him a rather sexy, smile. Her come-hither eyes were smoky and framed by dark lashes.

“Thank you, Miss...”

“Angel Salvadore.” She looked up at him through her lashes, pouting slightly at his lack of drooling. “Raven tells me that you work with metals....that must be exciting...hot...”

“I enjoy it.”

“Angel.” Raven grasped her by the arm. “You need to get back to your dance studio. I’m sure your break is about to be over.”

“Fine. I’m going. You should come and visit us--the professor is going to be away. We can party.”

“I promised my dear brother that I would keep the boys out of trouble. I didn’t know I was going to have my hands full with you!” Raven was firm dragging Angel away. She tossed an apologetic look over one shoulder.

Erik smiled.

xxXxx

He didn’t know what to say to fill the silence. He wasn’t sure he needed to fill it. The coffee shop was local. Logan had suggested it because it had a liquor license and he could order a beer while Charles nursed cups of tea and studied blueprints in the corner. Logan was reading a battered copy of The Fountainhead with interest and the occasional sigh. Charles reached out once, to pat Logan’s arm, letting his finger slide across taunt muscle before realizing the intimate nature of the gesture. He managed not to flush, but drew his hand away and continued make mental notes about exits and camera angles. It was easy enough to control the minds of the humans within the bank, but he couldn’t make a camera erase his presence.

Their method for bank robberies was practiced. Charles would arrange a meeting with a bank manager under a false name. Raven accompanied him. They froze the manager in his office and locked the door. Raven’s quick ability to not only change her form, but mimic the manager after a brief conversation was enough to gain their access to keys, codes, etc. Charles could lift any pertinent information from the manager’s mind. Logan was a key element. He had to infiltrate the bank, gain access to the security room and disable the cameras. His affinity for such subtle missions was amazing. He could seemingly make himself invisible...although several disguises helped him gain entrance. They didn’t need comm systems because Charles could easily link their thoughts. Occasionally, Charles would allow Darwin or Angel to help, but he preferred to keep things small. He only took the funds necessary. If they were caught or identified, the others would be able to care for the children.

“You’re looking rather pensive, Chuck. Don’t think to hard. You’ll get permanent frown lines.” Logan tapped his beer glass to catch his attention. “We should get going.”

“Yes.” Charles agreed. He gathered his things, stuffing them into his bag before slinging it over one shoulder. “Do you want to get some coffee to go...a few pastries, too. I know it must be boring for you to sit while I explore the bank through the eyes of another.”

“It’s not so bad.” Logan shrugged as he rose as well. “I’ve got my book to keep me occupied. We’ll get dinner afterward. I told Raven I would look out for you. She’s worried you’re getting thin.”

Charles shrugged. “I would hardly call myself thin.”

“You’ve been running a extra mile in the morning--you skip lunch to grade papers. Tea isn’t food, Charles.” Logan pushed open the door for him. “You’ve decided to take these kids in...it’s not going to help them if you work yourself into the ground.”

“I’m well aware of what I’m doing.” Charles snapped. He stopped short, letting out a sigh of frustration. “I’m sorry, Logan. I know you mean well...it’s just that I don’t have a choice. I teach at school. I teach at home. I plan well...you know what I plan. Running clears my head...and perhaps I forget to eat sometimes...”

“You need someone to boss you around.” Logan snorted. He grinned. “Don’t look at me like that...there are lots of things I might want to boss you around about, but I’d prefer they were something more fun and didn’t have to do with whether or not you’ve eaten.”

Charles nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets. He inclined his head to the side with a slight grin. “Perhaps. Come on. We’ve work to do.”

They walked in a comfortable silence, Logan shortening his normally long strides to match Charles’. There was a small park across from the bank where they could observe from a suitable distance. Logan would take notes on traffic while Charles explored. They settled together in a comfortable grassy spot. Charles laid out a heavy wool blanket near a try so that he could stretch comfortably out on his back while Logan could lean against the tree trunk. He let his hands rest against his torso, fingers idly twisting the buttons on his cardigan while he focused his mind to the task at hand and let his consciousness extend towards the bank employees.

Charles could feel Logan’s presence, somewhat dark and heavy beside him. He didn’t try to delve into Logan’s thoughts. A painful blank existed within Logan’s mind...a heavy fortress of walls surrounded memories of the past. Charles didn’t want to take a sledgehammer to the walls, but perhaps one day he could coax Logan into building a door. He sighed and slipped further away from the everyday sounds that surrounded them, shifting into the mind of a rather harried clerk who was trying to calm an irate customer. Humans were fascinating, but usually unaware of another presence in their mind. He settled down to spend a mundane couple of hours learning about the bank.

xxXxx

“So tell me, Chuck. What will you do when the children have grown up and flown away?”

“Continue to teach...there will always be a new generation to guide.” Charles reached for a spicy french fry, drenching it in ketchup before he popped it into his mouth. They were still sprawled on the lawn with an impromptu picnic of cheeseburgers and fries from a nearby dive.

“What about kids of your own...a wife?”

“I don’t know about the future...it’s not my gift.” Charles met Logan’s gaze. “What about you?”

“I think it might be best if I remembered my past first. I might already have a wife.” Logan laughed, but there was a flash of hurt in his eyes. He concentrated on eating his burger.

“Is there something bothering you, Logan?”  
`

“You’re not a psychologist, Chuck.”

“No, I’m your friend.” Charles ran a greasy hand through his hair and tilted his head to the side, grinning. “You can talk to me, Logan.”

“You’ve got crumbs in your hair, friend.” Logan leaned forward, running his fingers through Charles’ hair and brushing the crumbs away. “I’m not ready to talk yet. That’s why we’re focusing on you.”

“I’m feeling quite refreshed and extremely full. I’ll need to workout before going to bed.”

“Or workout in bed.”

“I’m not very good at flirting, Logan. It’s seems so long since I was at university trying to fascinate undergrads in the bar.”

“You’re doing just fine, Professor.” Logan hadn’t moved away. His fingers were threaded through Charles’s hair as he leaned closer. “I’m just waiting for you to be ready.”

“What do you mean?”

“You like the idea...but you’re just not quite ready.” Logan’s grin was wide.

“Who’s the psychologist?”

“Feeling up to walking back to the car?”

“It’s not that difficult...what I did, it’s just disorienting.” Charles didn’t really want to move. He sighed and pressed a quick kiss against the corner of Logan’s mouth. “You’re quite fascinating, Logan.”

“I know.” He drew away from Charles without loosing eye contact. “But we have time

xxXxx


	3. "Chanson Sans Issue"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Charles are missing something in their lives...

Erik hung his jacket and hat by the door before he tossed his keys onto the large oak-plank table that served many purposes. It’s battered top and edges fit in with the general theme of his minimalistic studio. The mattress in the corner was covered with plain sheets and a thin blanket. His clothes hung in neat rows in the closet. A basket held anything that didn’t hang. There wasn’t much. He didn’t have the luxury of things. He couldn’t afford it. Shaw paid his rent and funded him for supplies. There was usually a little extra for food, but not always. The small kitchenette was stocked with coffee supplies and an assortment of condiments. Rogue always bought fresh milk when she came to visit, stealing inside through the window by the old fire escape and never by the door.  


There were two texts from Shaw on his cell phone--a gift from Shaw. Erik ignored them and pulled the milk carton and a container of leftover takeout from the refrigerator. He didn’t bother to heat the food or grab a fork. The cold noodles slid into his mouth as he tilted his head back and swallowed half the contents. His eyes closed and for a moment he wondered what it would be like to come home to someone. Only for a moment.  


His latest projects were a stark contrast to the pieces that would be on exhibit for the art show. Erik knew Shaw wouldn’t like them, but the delicate pieces were crafted with precision and often left him exhausted. Unlike most artists that worked with metal, Erik didn’t need heat to create shapes, or even touch. His mutation allowed him to control electromagnetic fields in a way that made many of his art pieces the envy of others. They couldn’t fathom his seamless creations. He refused to reveal his secret, but it was that very attribute to his work that attracted Sebastian Shaw.  


Years had passed since, Erik met Shaw in his youth. It was then that Shaw used his influence to separate Erik from his family. He hadn’t been Erik then. His name was Max Eisenhardt; however, thanks to Shaw’s interference his name along with his family had died He obeyed Shaw thinking it would save his parents. No one was saved and Erik Lensherr grew up on the run. He managed to evade Shaw for almost five years. He ran away from the foster home Shaw placed him in immediately. The family worked for Shaw, but there were few prisons that could hold Erik for any amount of time.  


His life was a blur. He lived on adrenaline during those years. Scavenging for food took up many hours. He slept in alleys, ditches, cars, deserted houses, closets, fields when he could. Sometimes he didn’t sleep. Sometimes he would walk the night and try to think up the best way to kill Sebastian Shaw. He didn’t learn about their deaths until much later. He didn’t get to sit shiva for either. Perhaps someone mourned them properly, but he would never know.  


Erik sat at his work table, metal pieces levitating before him as he let his will direct them. The time would slip away as he worked. He wouldn’t have to remember all the loss. He wouldn’t need to contemplate exactly how he would kill Shaw.

His method would need to defy convention. Shaw’s immortality, telepathic wife, and variously mutated bodyguards made him a formidable opponent. Shaw felt he owned him body and soul, though he treated him more like a pet, than a man. Erik knew Shaw had plans for the use of his “pet’s” gifts, but he would not allow himself to remain a pawn. He thirsted for revenge. The metal beneath his fingers twisted into a thin coil with a razor sharp point as he smiled, imagining the coil slipping beneath skin, driving through bone and spiraling through Sebastian Shaw’s heart until it burst.

xxXxx

Charles stopped just short of the mansion as he neared the end of his morning run. He exhaled sharply, placing his hands on his hips and closing his eyes to focus. Someone was screaming telepathically. A woman. Emma. He could feel her pain, but almost as quickly as he reacted, reaching out to brush his thoughts with her own...there was nothing. It was if her very presence had faded from existence. She was a strong telepath. She was nowhere near his level, but in her anguish she had managed to push her range further. He hoped her sudden disappearance did not mean her demise.  


His eyes opened and he lifted his fingers to his temple, reaching out again. There was an emptiness, almost like a black-hole somewhere in the city. He hadn’t met many telepaths within his lifetime. He would be curious to speak to the mind of someone with his mutation, though it was possible to converse mind to mind with a non-telepath. Most lacked the finesse and he found himself either trying to catch elusive answers to his own question within a whirlwind of thought, or getting a headache when thoughts were shouted at him. Raven and Hank were the best at communicating with him, though Raven had the sheer advantage of years of practice. Sean and Alex were the worst. They could barely keep their thoughts together to speak. Angel was too scattered and Armando preferred Charles to remain out of his head.  


He jogged up the driveway to the mansion, his muscles complaining as he tried to pick up his previous rhythm. Charles wasn’t surprised to see Hank sitting in the kitchen waiting for him.  


“Morning, Hank.” Charles filled a glass with water from the water cooler and leaned against the counter.  


“Hey, Professor.” Hank was staring at a bowl of cereal.  


“You want to talk about why Raven is mad at you today?”  


“Did you...”  


“I don’t have to read your mind to know that if you’re moping over a bowl of cereal at this hour, my dearest sister is mad at you. What I don’t understand is why you continue to dance around the same argument.” Charles tilted his head back and swallowed the contents of the glass in a long, convulsive gulp. He closed his eyes as he felt the cold liquid pooling within his belly.  


“I love her.”  


“Yes, I know you love her, but you can’t change her appearance to suit you.”  


“I’ve been experimenting. I think...”  


“She’s beautiful, Hank. If you want to experiment on yourself--by all means do so. But I won’t let you make her feel guilty for being different. The whole point of this home is to help us all bond over our differences. We won’t have to hide what we are forever.” Charles stared at him with sympathy. “You’ve got to make a choice.”  


“What choice?”  


“Love Raven for who she is...or let her go so that she can find someone who will. Let go while you’re still able to salvage something of your relationship.”  


“I don’t want to let her go.” Hank’s eyes were shining with tears. “She was talking about this guy to Angel. I wanted to kill something...it hurt so much. She thinks he’s handsome. He’s dangerous. I wanted to shout that he couldn’t have her...I don’t think she’s ugly. I just want her to be able to go out without worrying about hiding.”  


“Is she worried? Or are you worried?”  


“I don’t know.”  


“How is your work with Cerebro coming?” Charles shifted the subject.  


“I’d like to run more tests this weekend...if you’re free.”  


“I told Raven I would check out the exhibition Friday evening, but after that...I would very much like to experiment with it.” Charles straightened. “I should get ready. I’ve two faculty meetings today. I’ll see you this afternoon?”  


Hank nodded. “Professor?”  


“Talk to Raven, Hank. She loves you so very much. I doubt she would’ve put up with you this long for anything less.”  


xxXxx  


He couldn’t sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair. It had been an intolerable day and nothing seemed to be going quite as he wished. He had to meet with Sean and Alex’s principal and counselors the following afternoon. Their rather volatile relationship had obviously taken a serious turn. Somewhere between love and hate, their emotions overtook them. The fight left both boys with large bruises, black eyes and various sprains. However, it seemed the fight pushed them over the edge into a relationship. After Charles tried to play his role as sage head of household, they had cuddled together on the sofa like happy puppies, nursing cups of tea and comparing injuries.  


The sheets were hot and tousled. He could feel a headache coming on. Charles was aching. It felt as though something was literally missing from his life and he couldn’t stand the idea of being in a big bed all alone. He stripped out of his pajamas and pulled a robe over his bare limbs before padding downstairs. The smaller pool in the garden looked inviting under the moonlight. He stood on the edge of the water for a moment before dropping his robe and slipping in. The pool was heated so the water was cool not freezing and he sighed as it caressed him. Charles swam the length of the pool before surfacing.  


“Chuck?” Logan stood at the edge of the water.  


“Logan--“ He grasped the edge of the pool. “You really shouldn’t be out here.”  


“You needed me.” He crossed his arms and sighed. “I woke up and I heard you calling me. Or felt it rather.”  


“I’ve made quite a mess of things.” Charles blinked up at Logan. “It’s been a strange day.”  


“You didn’t even come to dinner. Raven thought we should give you some space. I didn’t want to bother you by trying to make you talk about it. Sean and Alex said they had never seen you so angry. They're sleeping in Alex’s room together by the way. I had a talk with them about...ahem...the new aspect of their relationship. Armando couldn’t handle it. Hank blushed to high heaven when Sean kissed Alex after they helped clear the table. “  


Charles laughed. “I’m sorry I missed dinner. It’s probably why I have a headache...”  


“And why you went swimming without any shorts?” Logan sat on the edge of the pool in his boxers, lowering his legs into the water near Charles. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and grinned.  


The flush that spread across Charles’s cheeks was a pleasant one. He ducked under the water for a moment before resurfacing. “I was hot.”  


Logan groaned. “Sometimes you’re worse than the girls. They kept giggling every time Sean and Alex weren’t looking.”  


“I’m sorry I left it for you to sort out. It’s my responsibility.”  


“Everyone is entitled to a bad day, Chuck. You can complain about it.”  


Charles shrugged. “I suppose I could, but I really just want to be distracted...to clear my head.”  


“Why were you calling me...my thoughts must be distracting...”  


“They aren’t. You don’t project like most of the others...it’s mostly feelings and flashes of whatever is behind the strongest emotion you’re feeling.” Charles shrugged. “You’re quite calm tonight.”  


“It’s probably not the best time to tell you, I’ve remember something.”  


There was something in Logan’s voice that made Charles immediately focus his thoughts elsewhere. He nodded. “I’m glad. It’s a good sign.”  


“I need to go away for a few weeks after we tackle the bank.”  


“Okay.”  


“You’re not going to try and protest...”  


“I want you to come back, Logan. You’ve made the beginnings of a home here. I know you don’t want a commitment, but I doubt trying to dissuade you from leaving would make you want to stay.”  


“You could try to seduce me.”  


“I thought I was...”  


“I’m going back to bed. Good night, Chuck.”  


Charles sighed. “Logan.” He sank bank beneath the water, turning and making strong strokes to carry him to the other side. Perhaps if he was tired enough, he would be able to get some sleep.  


xxXxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Erik and Charles will finally meet soon...it's taking a bit longer than I anticipated.


	4. "Come in Please"

“Mr. Xavier. Thank you for coming in today.” The principal extended a hand, her eyes narrowing behind her heavily framed glasses. “You’re much younger than I expected.”

“Alex and Sean are wards under my care. I am not their biological father, but I provide for them as if they were my children. I’m sorry that their argument was so violent and disrupted the school day. They’ve been squabbling together for weeks. I had hoped they would sort it out at home, unfortunately it happened at school. They’ve made their amends, but I’m sure there are other consequences.”

“Out of school suspension for ten days is the usual punishment for fighting. I would also recommend that the boys see a counselor.” The principal gestured for Charles to be seated across from her desk.

“I understand suspension, Dr. McKinley. However, Sean and Alex have no need to see a counselor. We meet with a family therapist on a regular basis. It was a requirement from social services.” Charles leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “You’ll have no further trouble from them.”

“You’re a single father, Mr. Xavier. We only seek to help you where we can.” Dr. McKinley was staring past him, out the window of her office. “Is Alex...petting Sean?”

“They’ve settled their differences and taken a more affectionate attitude towards each other. As I said, you won’t have any more trouble between them.” Charles replied serenely.

“I understand from their files that Alex and Sean have troubled pasts...I don’t know that they’re settling in here. I was surprised that you didn’t enroll them in a private school.”

Charles nodded. “You’re surprised that I would choose public education because of my family?”

“Yes, frankly. It seems rather odd that a Xavier would foster two rebellious teenagers...”

“It’s three actually. Angel had already passed her proficiency exams so I didn’t require her to finish school.”

“There’s a girl as well?”

“I’ve always wanted a large family. It seemed like the proper way of getting one was to acquire some children.” He leaned forward. “You shouldn’t look so worried. I’m sure after two weeks everything will have settled down. I’ll take the boys around to talk to their teachers about assignments so they don’t get behind.”

“Of course.” Dr. McKinley was desperately trying to process the situation, but floundering about as she failed to verbalize the scattered thoughts in her mind.

Charles rose, shook her hand firmly and thoughtfully helped her focus enough to end the meet with grace. He was smiling as he led the boys from the office and sent them off to visit their teachers and acquire assignments. He had wandered out to wait for the boys in the car when his cell phone rang.

“Charles Xavier.”

“You still insist on that stupid accent.”

Charles’s fingers curled into a first when he heard the voice of his step-brother, Cain Marko.

When Charles’ father met Kurt Marko, they had embarked upon a search for scientific discovery. Charles hadn’t liked Cain Marko from the beginning. There was something malicious about him. He had played nice in front of the adults, but in private he bullied Charles and Raven. Charles shielded Raven from as much of Cain’s torment as he could, but he remembered dreading each play date and finding excuses to stay within sight of the adults (no easy feat within the Xavier mansion).

His father died nearly a year later. In the haze of mourning and the flurry of changes, Charles didn’t find it suspicious that his mother found comfort in the arms of Kurt Marko. He dreaded the thought of Cain as a step-brother, but resigned himself to the fact that he and Raven would be sent to boarding school. His interests and test scores would open doors for him that Cain’s would not despite the money that Marko possessed. His father’s trust provided enough for him and Raven to live comfortably without his mother or Marko having to spend any money.

“Are you still listening, Charles?”

“What do you want, Cain?”

“The taxes will be due on the mansion soon, I hope you will find the funds to pay them. Otherwise, I will be taking the rest of my inheritance.”

“You called to say that...it’s not very droll, Cain.”

“I heard you were running an orphanage out of the mansion. You father would be disappointed that his son...the brilliant, Charles Xavier was raising brats and teaching entry level courses.”

“Again, I assume you have some other purpose for calling.”

“The company is interested in your research on mutations after reading your latest article.”

“So they asked you to call me? They obviously don’t get out much.” Charles laughed bitterly. “Not interested, Cain.”

“They will pay you well, Charles. You need the money.”

“I don’t need anything you’re offering, Cain.”

“I’m coming to the city in a few weeks. I’ll call again to set up a meeting. Perhaps you will have come to your senses.”

“I think perhaps you punched me one too many times in my youth, Cain. I can’t seem to think about you without wanting to do unspeakable things. It’s best that we keep our distance. Don’t come near me or my children.” Charles ended the call and slammed his free hand against the hood of the car as he cursed under his breath. He wouldn’t have Cain Marko interfering in his life. There was too much at stake now that he had the children. He would have to find a way to make sure that his step-brother kept his distance. Permanently.

xxXxx

Moira let herself into the mansion without ringing the bell. She didn’t live with them, but she had always been made to feel as though she was a part of their family. She was happy when Charles had called to ask if she would spend the weekend at the mansion to balance the adult to teenager ratio while he attended to some business out of town with Logan and Raven were for company. A weekend with Angel and the boys could prove entertaining. Angel was enthusiastic about a sleepover and a night of girl talk, but Moira hoped to find time to take a quiet walk with Armando and catch up with Hank.  


She sat her suitcase in the foyer before venturing into the area the family claimed for their leisure. Moira stopped short when she nearly tripped over a tangle of teenage boys curled together on the rug near the sofa. She blinked as she caught her balance. Sean was draped around Alex, his chin resting on Alex’s shoulder while they watched an action film.  


“Hey, Moira.” Alex glanced up. “Everyone is upstairs packing. Professor X said to come on up when you arrived.”  


“We’ll take your bag up to your room.” Sean added as he rolled to his feet and held out a hand to Alex. “Armando said we were going to Blanca’s for dinner.”  


“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sean. Thank you. I love Blanca’s.” Moira smiled.  


“That’s what Armando said.” Alex replied slowly as he rose with Sean’s help. He was staring at her in confusion.  


“Yes. Well, I’ll go on up.” Moira managed another smile as she watched them walk away.  
/Moira, come on up./ Charles’ voice in her head was rather disconcerting at times, but Moira liked the familiarity of the contact. She made her way up the winding staircase towards his wing of the house. She could hear voices as she passed Raven’s room, but she didn’t stop to listen. She found Charles’ folding clothes and placing them in a duffle bag. He gave her a slow grin, “Hello, love. You’re looking rather fetching.”  


“Alex and Sean are....”  


“In love. Logan has talked with them about being safe. I’ve talked to them about keeping balance within their relationship. It can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to them. You may have to separate them in the restaurant.”  


Moira climbed up onto the end of the bed and tucked her feet beneath her. “Exactly how would I do that when they’re stuck together like glue.”  


“Perhaps it won’t come to that. Angel can’t seem to stop giggling when she sees them. It is rather distracting for them so just make sure she’s sitting near them.” Charles walked across his suite and into the bathroom. “I don’t expect we’ll be gone all weekend. We should be back early on Sunday.”  


“It’s fine. We’ll have fun until then. I’m looking forward to relaxing before things get hectic with the show. All of the artists are ready to set up and we’ll open back up to the public Monday night.”  


“I’ll be there.” Charles’s voice was muffled for a moment, but he returned with a toiletry kit. “Raven has been raving about one of the artists who works with metals....I can’t remember his name, but she insists he’s the best we’ll see there.”  


Moira nodded. “Sebastian Shaw’s find. Erik Lensherr. His work is amazing. She’s right. She has a good feel for this.”  


A knock on the door was followed by Logan’s entrance. “Chuck...are you all set? Afternoon, Moira.”  


“Hi, Logan.” Moira waved a bit shyly. She never knew exactly how to react to the ruggedly handsome Logan.  


He flashed a feral grin before standing next to Charles and peering into his bag. “It’s two nights, Professor. You pack as much as your sister.”  


“Not nearly as much...she can make her own clothes if she wishes.” Charles retorted brightly. “I suppose you just brought an extra flannel shirt. What will you sleep in at night?”  


Logan leaned over to whisper something in Charles’s ear. Moira watched the flush spread across Charles’s face, but he didn’t push Logan away, rather seemed be leaning closer.  


She felt her own face grow warm watching Logan’s hand on Charles’s shoulder, familiar and possessive all at once.

Charles cleared his throat, still flushed as he glanced up. He had seemed to forget she was still in the room. “Moira, do you think you could take a look at some of the pieces in the house while you’re here. I’m thinking of selling a few and I’d love your opinion of the best options.”  


“Of course, you know I’ve been dying to have a look at what’s here. There just never seems to be time.”  


“Armando said he would be happy to help you.” Charles added.  
Moira tucked her dark brown hair behind on ear and tried not to blush. “Okay.”  


“Perfect. I’m all set. We just need to let Raven and Hank finish their discussion and we can go.” Charles picked up his bag as Moira climbed off of the bed.  


“Lovers’ quarrel?”  


“Not exactly. I think they’ll work things out.” Charles paused. “She’ll meet us by the garage in five minutes.”

xxXxx

“You’re late.”  


“Fashionably.” Erik paused on the dais at the entrance to Shaw’s private lounge in the Hellfire Club*. He knew that Shaw’s appreciate glance outweighed the anger in his tone. The tailor made tuxedo Shaw provided for his attire for the evening emphasised his narrow waist and broad shoulders. He has slicked back his hair for the occasion and added one of his favorite black fedoras, tilted slightly over one eye.  


Erik handed his coat to one of Shaw’s minions---Azazel. “There’s a good man.”  


Azazel grunted something in Russian as he stalked away.  


“Come and sit beside Emma. I have a short business meeting before we head out to the gala.”  


Erik shifted his attention to the slender woman lounging on the leather sofa. Shaw’s wife, Emma, was his favorite accessory. He sat on the sofa beside her, not close enough to touch, angling his legs away from her. Their rather intimate relationship was based on Shaw’s whims. Erik didn’t necessary dislike Emma Frost, in fact, he figured he would be doing her a favor when he disposed of her monster of a husband.  


“Erik. Would you like a drink?” Emma inquired. Shaw had turned away from them to converse with his right hand man, Janos.  


“I’m fine, thank you.” He focused on her cool eyes for a moment. “What are the plans for tonight?”  


“There’s a gala at the ballet. We’re entertaining a business associate of Sebastian’s, Cain Marko.” Emma smoothed one hand over the white silk of her evening gown as she turned towards him. “I hope that you will enjoy seeing La Sylphide.”  


“I’m sure that it will be interesting.” Erik responded politely.  


“Shall we?” Shaw held out a hand towards his wife. “Mr. Marko will be waiting at his hotel. It’s preferable to be little late to the pre-show reception, but not to the ballet.”  
Erik rose and offered Emma his hand. She rose gracefully, her fingers barely placing any pressure against his as she moved to her husband’s side. The ride to the hotel was quiet. Erik accepted a glass of champagne, but only sipped it to be polite. It was nice to have something to do with his hands rather than imagine them crushing Shaw’s windpipe. He stared out at the city, extending his senses to feel all of the magnetic fields. His shoulders relaxed as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sheer wonder of the city...all the metal just aching to be shaped by his power.  


“Mr. Shaw...a pleasure.”  


“Mr. Marko. The pleasure is all mine. Allow me to introduce, my wife, Emma.”  


“Mrs. Shaw. Tales of your beauty are a shadow to its reality. “ Cain Marko’s bulk filled one side of the limo.  
Emma inclined her head politely.  


“Our friend, Erik Lensherr. A budding artist.” Shaw added.  


“Mr. Marko.” Erik extended a hand.  


“Mr. Lensherr.” Marko’s grip was firm, too firm. He seemed to be trying to measure Erik’s worth. Erik increased his grip slightly, taking a moment to assess Marko’s body for metal.  


They remained locked in the handshake for a few moments before separating rather quickly. Erik smiled despite the throbbing in his hand. He could slowly wrench the fillings from Cain Mako’s mouth or crushing the ring Marko wore until the bones in his finger snapped. Either would be satisfyingly painful enough.  


“I was glad to get your call, Mr. Shaw. My other business here didn’t quite pan out as I planned. Not everyone knows how to act in their own best interest.”  


Shaw chuckled. “I didn’t know you had business with anyone but me, Marko.”  


“It was family business. “  


“I didn’t realize you had family here since your father passed away.”  


“My step-brother still lives here. The company wants to recruit him is offering him everything he could possibly wants, but he’s so proud that he won’t take the offer.” Marko sound disgusted.  


“I’m sure you’ll persuade him that it’s in his best interests.” Shaw replied. “But if I can be of any assistance, please, feel free to ask.”  


Erik glowered. He knew what Shaw’s persuasion involved.  


xxXxx

Charles stood outside of the bank vault, eyes focused on the distance with two fingers pressed against his temple. He had practice separating his awareness so that he could hear the thoughts of the bank employees above, remaining in contact with Raven and Logan so he would know if anything changed, and controlling the bank guards so that they didn’t notice anything amiss while Logan made sure their presence would not be recorded. He remained constantly alert, even as Raven passed him in the guise of a bank courier with the bags that contained enough money to cover their needs for the next year. He didn’t like the idea of taking more than they needed. He was sure their investments would eventually pay off and this constant need for thievery would cease, but until then he would provide for his family through any means necessary. The mansion was the perfect place to raise young mutants out of the prying public eye. Hank’s plans for expanding their training facilities would eventually allow them to open a school for other young mutants. Charles knew it was needed. He could help change the future.  


The entire robbery took less than half an hour.  


“I think it’s time to celebrate!” Raven tossed her blond hair over one shoulder in the backseat. “We should dress up and go out dancing!”  


“As long as there are drinks involved--” Logan replied from the driver’s seat.  


“And food...” Charles added a bit plaintively from the passenger’s seat.  


“Perfect!” Raven leaned forward. “I’ll be the envy of every woman we meet tonight with two such handsome dates.”  
Nearly an hour later the trio was settled in a cozy corner with a round of drinks and appetizers on the way. Raven linked her arm through Charles’ as she sipped her vodka cranberry and hummed along to the jazz from the three-piece band.

“Heaven.”  


“Not bad.” Logan agreed as he raised his beer glass in her general direction. “A toast to a job well done.”  


“Cheers.” Charles tapped his own beer glass against Logan’s with a sly grin. “Job well done.”  


“So where exactly are you going?” Raven inquired. “And how long will you be gone?”  


“North...and hopefully no more than a few weeks.”  


She nodded. “See that that isn’t any more than that. We’ve got a good thing going at home...”  


“I’ll be back, Raven.” Logan spoke reassuringly, but he was staring at Charles when he said it.  


Charles tilted his head back and convulsively swallowed his entire beer with out stopping. He closed his eyes and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand before blinking a bit sheepishly and signaling to their waitress. “Ready for another round?”  


“Don’t drink too much, Chuck.” Logan’s hand was on his knee. “It’s going to be a night you will want to remember.”  


Charles did.  


He remembered the silly stories of childhood that Raven used to tease him and her laughter as he attempted to justify his actions. He remembered the way she hugged him close when she glossed over an incident where he had shielded her from Cain...focusing instead on the prank they designed in retaliation. He remembered stumbling into the loo to catch his breath and relieve himself. He remembered Logan’s hands at his waist as he shoved him inside the stall. He remembered the click of the latch sliding shut and the heated rhythm of Logan’s lips against his skin. Charles remembered his own passionate response, the feeling of his teeth on Logan’s shoulder as he attempted to muffle the sound. He remembered thinking that he wanted more than just to make-out with Logan in a bathroom. He remembered Logan’s suddenly bashful grin as they straightened their clothes and tried to slip nonchalantly back to the table. He thought perhaps he remembered Raven giving them a thoughtful stare.  


There was a cool walk back to the hotel with Raven over his shoulder and Logan at his side. They had tucked Raven into bed and then there were slower kisses and lingering glances. There was the feeling of contentment and easiness between them. There was a moment when he wanted more, but Logan was standing in the doorway and whispering. “Not yet. Give me something to come back for, Chuck.”  


He remembered standing in the hall long after Logan had disappeared into the elevator and he remembered smiling.

xxXxx

“I thought he would never leave.” Rogue was sitting on the bed beside him eating leftover chow mien from a take out carton.  


“Marie.” Erik yawned and stared up at her. “How long have you been here?”  


“Long enough.” She paused, a forkful of noodles dangling precariously as she gestured. “You need to stop letting Shaw call the shots.”  


“You need to stop spilling food on my sheets.” Erik rolled over, thankful that the sheet was tangled around him strategically. He ran a hand through his hair before rubbing the grit from his eyes. “I haven’t seen you for weeks. Where have you been hiding?”  


“I took a little trip...met some interesting people...” She drawled prettily. Her southern accent seemed to come and go with her mood. “But I’m not ready to move on quite yet.”  


“It’s good to see you.” He closed his eyes. “Toss me my robe?”  


“Don’t dress on account of me, honey.” She protested, but climbed over him to retrieve the requested item. Rogue tossed it to him before sauntering back towards the kitchen. “Hurry up and take a shower. I need to talk to you. I’ll make coffee.”  


Erik showered with the tiniest bit of haste, partially to hear what Rogue had to say, but also for the promised coffee.

It was nice to have someone in the apartment he actually liked. Shaw presence made him detest his living arrangements all the more, but unfortunately he wasn’t powerful enough to take Shaw down alone. He had tried (and had the scars to prove it); but Rogue’s mutation had promise and given the right circumstances, he knew Shaw could be defeated.  


“So...you drink that and think about this...I know a way we can make some real cash. Enough cash to let you get out from under Shaw’s thumb and really work on your art.” Rogue grinned. “And with our particular skill sets...it will make it easy to get away with out anyone knowing any better. Much more effective that your pick-pocketing skills.”  


He flushed a bit. He had met Rogue under at a local street fair where he had been practicing his skills on unsuspecting tourists. She had noticed his rather inexpert attempts and approached him to offer advice. They spent a rather productive afternoon together and made a tidy profit. Erik raised a brow as he sipped his coffee. “What is this grand scheme?”  


“We rob a bank.”  


He coughed violently. “You want to become Bonnie and Clyde?”  


“Do you want to be Shaw’s blow up doll for the rest of your life?”  


“Can we discuss this when I don’t have a show going up tonight?”  


“It’s a sort of a limited time offer. I met some people...mutants...and I think we can all work together.”  


“I can’t trust them.”  


“You trust me.”  


“I don’t know them. You don’t know them.”  


“Will you come and talk to them at least, tomorrow?” She twisted the single white lock of her dark hair between her thumb and forefinger.  


“We’ll see.” He did need the distance from Shaw to set his plans in motion, but he wasn’t ready to just trust anyone.

 

xxXxx

Charles wandered through the maze of exhibits in the studio as Raven made last minute checks. He followed in her wake, grateful for the distraction of an evening out until they rounded the corner into the most breath-taking combination of curves and jagged edges. The metal sculptures were exquisite. The sheer will to bend metal and create such beautiful pieces was riveted. Charles circled among the sculptures pausing to study the central piece. His fingers itched to trace each supple curve that seemed to spiral towards oblivion. It was such a sharp contrast to the self-portrait work. The jagged teeth had formed a sharky grin that left Charles unsettled in his bones. He liked this artist more than he had anticipated. The thrilling raw passion of the exhibit was almost palpable. A shiver ran through him as he continued to admire the work: Hell by Erik Lensherr.  


“Raven?”  


“Yes, Charles?” She looked up from her checklist, a thoughtful frown creasing her brw.  


“I want to buy this one--how much?”  


“It’s gorgeous yeah...just like the artist.” She grinned and scanned her list. “It’s not for sale. It’s already part of the Sebastian Shaw collection, but I could always say we sold it by mistake...”  


Charles whistled softly as he looked over her shoulder at the price. “How unfortunate...I couldn’t get over the expense...not with the children to provide for, but it’s so very provocative.”  


They stood in silence for several moments.  


“You like it?” The accent was definitely not American. Charles thought he detect a mixture of German and European roots.

But he was distracted as he stared up into the eyes of one of the most handsomely arresting man he had ever seen. His icy blue-green eyes and strong profile was obviously the origin of the self portrait. Charles let his gaze wander from Erik’s eyes, to his mouth, quirked in askance. His gaze wandered lower, across broad shoulders, lean torso and endless legs.  


Raven seemed to be saying something when Charles finally manage to blurt. “It’s absolutely riveting.”  


Charles’ hear thudded painfully against his chest as he flushed and tried not to stare at the artist like a gaping fish.

“I wish I could afford it. I love the way it just...curves.”  


Raven cleared her throat. She stared at Charles for a moment. “I’ll leave you two to chat---I’ve got to go check on the other artist. Erik Lensherr...my brother, Professor Charles Xavier. Charles, the artist that seems to be making you drool over metal...Erik Lensherr.”  


“A pleasure.”  


“Yes.” Charles could feel his cheeks burning. He grinned foolishly.

“Indeed. You can touch it.” Erik indicated the sculpture. “I usually prefer that people don’t touch my work. I’ll make an exception for you, Charles Xavier.”  


“Thank you, Mr. Lensherr.”  


Erik placed a firm hand at his shoulder, pushing him towards the sculpture. “Erik.”  


“Erik.” Charles let his fingers slide into the metal curve as he murmured Erik’s name. The cold metal was smooth beneath his fingertips as he let his entire hand disappear inside. His eyes fluttered close. Erik may have sighed, but Charles couldn’t be sure. He could hear surface thoughts. Erik’s pride in his work...his guilt about someone...an underlying anger at Shaw and fascination with the way Charles was fondling his art.  


“You’re different that most aren’t you, Charles?” Erik hadn’t moved his hand. “You see what’s really there...don’t you?”  


“It’s not obvious to everyone?” Charles turned, his face tilted back...a breath away.  


“No.”  


Charles couldn’t move, he could feel Erik’s desire...the sudden attraction was unnerving and utterly tempting at the same time. He licked his lips. “I’m glad Raven suggested I come to view the exhibits early. It’s much nicer.”  


“Your sister is quite capable.” Erik was staring at Charles’ mouth. I want to kiss him. That mouth.  


Charles kissed him instead.


	5. "What Are We Waiting For?"

Charles Xavier kissed without haste. He moved so sweetly and languidly that Erik wanted to scream. Charles pulled Erik’s t-shirt up enough to slide his hands underneath and let his fingers rest just over his heart and at his waist. He didn’t mind that Charles seemed to take the lead. It wasn’t the same as when Shaw forced himself into Erik’s space. Charles kissed his as if he were afraid that Erik was going to disappear and he wanted to savor each second. 

“Charles--” Erik pressed his lips against Charles’ temple. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

“This is your night, my friend. Your exhibit. You can’t leave.” Charles was grinning rather foolishly. It was perfect. “I’m rather surprised no one has interrupted us. Of course, I might not have noticed if they did.” 

Erik caught Charles’ hand as he pulled away. “After?” 

“God, yes.” Charles laughed, head tilted back, throat exposed. He glanced down at their hands. “I should go find, Raven.” 

“Charles.” Erik blinked. He needed to tell him about Shaw. He couldn’t just drag him into his messy life without warning. 

“It can wait, Erik. Everything is going to be okay.” Charles gave his hand a squeeze before pressing a quick kiss against his knuckles. “We have much to talk about.” 

He was gone. Erik was alone with his art, staring into the distance. He closed his eyes and very carefully did not think of Charles Xavier. It wouldn’t do for Shaw to know about his liaison. Jealousy from Shaw took a violent nature. Erik would have to be extremely private about Charles. Shaw did not deny him other lovers, but the possibility of something more than a casual encounter could be disastrous. 

“If you hurt my brother, there will be hell to pay.” 

“Raven.” 

“I haven’t seen him this reckless since he decided to adopt the kids. He’s rash at time, but usually he makes the right choices. I’m not so sure about you.” She stared at him with a certain amount of disdain and confusion. “I want to like you.” 

“Kids?” 

“You should be more worried about what I will do to you...” She crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. 

Erik nodded seriously. “I am. I’m just a little surprised about the kids.” 

“You’ve met Angel. There’s Alex and Sean as well. Our permanent house guests...my boyfriend, Hank. Armando. Logan. Moira at times. We’re quite a family. He’ll hit you with it all at once if you’re not careful.” 

“I see.” 

“You don’t, but perhaps that’s best.” She smiled brightly. “I should go find him before he gets into any more trouble.” 

He was alone again. Quite the family. 

xxXxx 

Charles found a glass of champagne and a quiet corner. He was still buzzed from his encounter with Erik Lensherr, but just the tiniest bit up guilt surged through him. Logan would be back eventually...their flirtation had the promise of something stronger. The anticipation of their relationship was something he hadn't counted on. The immediate attraction of Erik Lensherr had simply bypassed any inhibitions he had about beginning a relationship with a man. In college, he had dated girls. The occasional flirtation with a young man was not something he avoided, but it seemed that the female population was determined to take up much of his time. 

“You aren’t even looking at the art.” Her voice was sinuous, but cool. 

“I just needed a moment. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the genius here. The artists are talented beyond belief.” Charles covered his surprise as he inclined his head to the woman in white. He didn’t extend his gift to glean information from her thoughts. She was mercifully quiet in that aspect. “Charles Xavier.” 

“Emma Frost Shaw.” She extended her hand not to shake, to be kissed. 

Charles brushed his lips across her knuckles, thankful that he had practiced the social grace enough that he wasn’t uncomfortable. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Shaw.” He had noted her wedding ring. 

“Emma.” 

“Charles.” He released her hand. “Are you enjoying the show?” 

“My husband is sponsoring one of the artists.” She deliberately didn’t answer his question as she placed a hand on her slender hip. She wore an off the shoulder white sweater, over a floor length silk shirt of the same shade. It made her seem to pale. All white. Her hair, her pale skin, her clothing. So cold. Her lips quirked into a smile. She liked his admiration. “Perhaps you’d like to take a turn about the exhibits with me, I’m feeling neglected. Sebastian is off somewhere talking business.” 

He blinked. “I really should find my sister...” It was at that moment that he felt it. Her thoughts trying to slip into his. Charles knew it was her. The cold touch was delicate, but obviously she wasn’t used to contact with other telepaths. He pulled up his shield, pushing her away with just enough force. 

/You really should ask before you try to invade someone’s thoughts./ 

/You’re a telepath!/ 

/Quite. It’s very nice to meet a fellow mutant./ He smiled. 

/This changes things./ Her smile was strained. / He will be so angry./ 

/Who?/ 

/The next time we meet won’t be as pleasant, Mr. Xavier./ 

/Emma./ Charles reached for her hand again. /Don’t go. You’re projecting fear. Who are you afraid of...your husband, Sebastian...is a mutant./ 

/Stop!/ She glowered and in an instant he was cut off from the onslaught of her thoughts. Her skin beneath his hand was suddenly cold and when he released her he saw it was shining like diamonds. “You don’t understand who you’re dealing with...but you will.” 

Charles watched her walk away in silence. Her mental voice had been familiar. The same presence that he had heard in agony before. There was nothing he could do at present, but he had to know what had caused her so much pain. Her husband? 

“There you are.” Raven was looping her arm through his and tugging him forward. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” 

He let her drag him in the opposite direction. “You found me.” 

“I saw you with Erik Lensherr.” 

“Oh, shit.” His curse was heartfelt. “Raven...” 

“You’re not a monk, Charles. I don’t need details.” Raven waved away his explanation. 

“Well. Okay.” 

“Right.” 

xxXxx 

Erik’s apartment wasn’t very far from the gallery. Charles had taken a cab to the address Erik had given him and pressed the buzzer without hesitation. It was the time that it took him to climb the stairs that allowed doubt to creep into his mind. He didn’t know the first think about Erik. He deliberately kept himself out of the thoughts of anyone that he would consider as a potential lover. He wanted honesty between them because the moment anyone found out about his particular gift, they were immediately on the defensive. How invasive had he been into their thoughts? How could he stop himself from just reading their mind when he wished? 

“Charles.” Erik stared at him with something akin to hunger. “Come in. Would you like something to drink? There’s not much...water...scotch...I think there may be an old bottle of wine covered in dust.” 

“I like this apartment. It looks like you. Hard. Austere. Cold. Yet, there’s something inviting about it. I could spend an afternoon just staring at the wall because they intrigue me.” Charles followed Erik into the studio. 

Erik was staring at him expectantly. 

“Oh, scotch would be lovely. Thank you.” 

“Your accent. Raven doesn’t have one.” 

“I’ve spent many years abroad. I was born in New York.” Charles wandered around the studio idly. “You play chess? It’s a lovely board.” 

“It’s my inspiration for my next collection. We could play if you like...” Erik had located the bottle of scotch and two glasses. He studied Charles. 

Charles laughed. He couldn’t help it. His head tilted back as he reveled in the rush he got from just listening to Erik speak. He felt giddy for no reason whatsoever. His hand covered his flushed cheek. “You must think I’m insane.” 

“No. That’s not what I’m thinking.” Erik extended a glass to Charles. “I’m just glad you came.” 

Charles shivered as their fingers brushed. He sipped his scotch and continued his circuit of the room. There wasn’t really anywhere to sit save the bed or the kitchen table. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me about yourself. Talk to me.” 

Erik squared his shoulders, deliberate a shift of muscle and bone beneath his shirt. “I don’t like to talk about myself. I don’t think you came to hear me tell you about my life?” 

“I think I came here to take what you’re willing to give me.” Charles replied as he quickly swallowed the rest of his scotch. “Because I want to feel the way that I did when I touched your art for the first time and then met you.” 

Erik crossed the room with a sharp snap, his glass shattering against the concrete floor when he dropped it to embrace Charles. It wasn’t that Charles wasn’t expecting it, he caught Erik’s weight, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him with the same dizzying fervor that made his stomach twist into knots. He felt consumed by his desire for Erik like nothing he had ever felt before. The ache of their separation was almost akin to agony and he didn’t know why. 

“Erik?” 

“Oh---” Erik made a rather strangled sound as he fell away from Charles gasping. “Marie?” 

Charles exhaled sharply and did a hasty inspection of his attire. Mostly intact. He turned his head to view the distraction. “Rogue?” 

“Professor!” 

“Oh dear.” Charles struggled to sit up, his legs still tangled with Erik’s. “I didn’t know you were acquainted with Erik?” 

“I could say the same.” She was blushing, but it was then that he noticed she was also bleeding. 

“Erik do you have a first aid kit?” 

“Yes.” Erik dashed towards the bathroom while Charles guided Rogue to the table careful not to make any skin contact. 

Charles studied the cut across her cheek and her busted lip. “I do hope the other man looks worse.” 

“He does.” She grinned then winced. “Ouch.” 

“I’m guessing that Erik is the friend you mentioned?” 

“Yes.” 

“Interesting.” Charles had been trying to lure Rogue to the mansion ever since he met her quite by chance at a local street fair. She was independent and headstrong, but shy of people considering her mutation could literally kill someone with a single touch. “I’m glad you have him for a friend. I’m marginally less worried about you.” 

“So how do you two know each other?” Erik returned with a small kit and handed it to Charles. 

“Rogue and I have met on occasion. She’s interested in the family business. She may have mentioned it to you?” Charles did a quick inventory of the kit’s contents before selecting a couple of cotton swabs and a bottle of peroxide. He pulled on two rubber gloves before tilting Rogue’s chin up and beginning to clean her wounds. 

“You---Charles Xavier--rob banks?” 

“When there is a need to...yes.” Charles smiled. 

“Wait---that means. You’re...” 

“A mutant. Yes, I am. I am quite surprised to find you are as well. It makes this all the more special.” 

“What can you do?” 

“I am a telepath.” Charles shrugged. 

“You’ve been in my head?” 

“No.” Charles looked up at Erik. “I have not been in your head. I can only hear the thoughts that you project. I spend most of my time blocking people’s thoughts. It’s beautiful, but it can be a distraction. Imagine how many things I was bombarded with at the art show. I value the privacy of others, Erik.” 

“How can I trust that?” 

“It depends on whether or not you trust me and nothing more. I can’t show you what it feels like to have me in your head. You might not notice. I am quite good at slipping in an out. I don’t like to be clumsy.” Charles continued to clean Rogue’s face. He bandaged what he could. “At the moment, I’m more concerned about what has happened to this young lady. We can continue our conversation at another time.” 

Erik nodded. “Yes. Marie. Who did that to you?” 

“I’d rather not talk about it. I’d rather talk about what you two were doing?” Rogue lowered her eyes. “I just need to lay low for a couple of days. I can stay here?” 

“I think you should come back to the mansion. It’s off the radar. There’s plenty of space. Both of you are welcome.” Charles was efficiently cleaning up the mess. He turned to face them. “We can bundle Rogue out in a coat and hat. I’ll have Hank drive into town to pick us up.” 

“I need to stay here.” Erik replied evenly. “I have commitments. But I agree. She should go with you. I’ll follow you...just to make sure she’s settled in and return to pick her up in a couple of days.” 

Charles didn’t argue. He could see the firm set to Erik’s jaw and he didn’t want to pry. Not yet. “Let me make a call.” 

xxXxx

**Author's Note:**

> ###### Inspired by My Chemical Romance's "Demolition Lovers"


End file.
